Courting the Wind
by Thalia Castellan
Summary: Gods and their suiters are like wood Nymphs and Satyrs: the chase is the best part. One-Shot Challenge: Week 6


**Disclaimer: Sadly, no. I don't own Percy and co. **

**Recommended Soundtrack: Never Again, by Kelly Clarkson.**

**Contest: As most of my one-shots seem to be for, this is for WindowChild and ShadowPalace's one-shot challenge. Go look up their prompts!**

_Courting the Wind._

He's loved her since that day so long ago when he brought her down from Olympus in a basket to her father. It's been nineteen long years since then, and still, he wants her.

So he watches wistfully, as she and Percy Jackson leave his apartment and walk off towards a restaurant. He gently blows his wind, caressing her hair and face, blowing her long curls out of their loose ponytail.

He sighs in desperation as she unties her elastic and deftly reties her hair, finding it annoying to wear it down; something he doesn't understand. After all, who wouldn't want the honey-blond, princess curls she has? And who wouldn't want to watch them blow in the wind?

Hand in hand, the two teens reach the bus stop.

Apparently, there's a problem, because Annabeth is scolding Percy and making rapid hand motions towards the bus schedule--conveniently tapped on the inside of the slightly lopsided, plastic and metal shed they call a bus stop.

The son of Poseidon shrugs, helpless to defend his position. Even he can acknowledge that if he hadn't tried to use his toilet as a garbage disposal, they'd be on time.

Changing into the very wind itself, he drifts closer, being sure to nip at her ear when he gets to her side.

"This happened on our last date too!" Annabeth threw her hands into the air and glared at him. "Can't you manage to not explode, clog, or destroy anything for _one night?!"_

Percy shuffled his feet uncomfortably--he hates it when she's right. "Sorry, Wise Girl."

Annabeth scoffs--she's learned by now that he rarely calls her by her seldom used nickname unless he's run out of excuses. In fact, he's been doing that a lot lately, trying to soften her up before making a horrible suggestion.

"But look on the bright side!"--Here comes that suggestion--"We can always walk! Right?"

Annabeth doesn't answer. Instead, she wraps her plum purple velvet wrap--bought 'specially for this date--closer around her slim body and starts off at a rapid walk.

The god of the West wind smiled to himself, watching Percy hurry to catch up with his girlfriend. He almost feels sorry for the demigod in that instant, Annabeth is one of the only female demigods outside of the Aphrodite cabin who had perfected the art of running in high-heels.

"Annabeth, wait!" Annabeth slowed, waiting for Percy to catch up to her at the next corner.

They made it to the restaurant in under a half hour, a new record for Percy. The whole trip was made in dead silence. Another record.

Transforming himself into a good-looking businessman in his early thirties, Zephyrs slid into the booth behind the one Annabeth and Percy have taken. He is in just the right place, the shadows falling over his face, his ears not even having to strain to pick up their conversation.

He orders a water, an expensive whine, bruschetta, and settled himself down for his own special drama to unfold.

He didn't have to wait long.

Halfway through his pasta dish, Percy looked at his girlfriend, swallowed his mouthful of food, and approached a topic he thought was save. "I talk to Rachel yesterday, she said--"

"Really, Percy!" Annabeth threw down her fork, drawing the attention of a few other diners. "We're on a date and all you want to talk about is _Rachel_!?"

Percy stared at his date, wondering what was wrong with Rachel. Had she quit being the Oracle or something? That reminded him, he'd meant to ask how Thalia was doing, Annabeth had seen her the other day....

"Are you even listening to me?" Annabeth snapped, clapping her hands in Percy's face.

"How's Thalia doing?" Percy asked, unfazed. "You guys went shopping, right?"

Annabeth made a growling noise at the back of her throat. "That's it!" She screamed, drawing even more looks and--finally--Percy's attention. "You can't remember my birthday was yesterday because you were busy saving the marine mammals, you IMed Rachel, you ask about Thalia; what, should I ask Nico about Luke and then tell you all about it? Would you like that?"

Percy's tiny brain finally picked up on the fact that this wasn't just an 'oh, Annabeth got a B in Science again' this was an 'oh gee, Annabeth's pissed. Where's Riptide?' moment.

By the time Percy had picked up on that however, Annabeth had stood and was in the midst of throwing her icy beverage across his shirt.

"When you're done being a jerk, call me."

In the commotion that followed, no one noticed the man in the corner booth throw down a couple twenties and change into a gentle breeze.

* * *

Annabeth stomped along the sidewalk, ignoring her feet aching in protest and the looks several people were giving her.

Now, ten minutes later, she was somewhat regretful that she'd blow up at Percy and then dosed him in Sprite.

She consoled herself with the fact that he'd had it coming for months. He had neglected her, argued with her, forgotten her birthday and quite a few of their dates; put stranded whales and whinny fish in front of her.

Luke, she decided, would never have run off to babysit a barnacle on her birthday.

Granted, Luke had been a son of Hermes, and would never have been asked in the first place to babysit any kind of underwater animal. Besides, if Thalia had ever found out that Luke had ditched her 'little' sister for an underwater creature that probably wasn't even smart enough to sing the alphabet......

Annabeth sighed and shook her head, trying to rid herself of memories of both her now dead knight-in-shining-armor and the girl who should have been five years older then her and around to beat Percy into a bloody pulp.

Turning at last onto her street, Annabeth brushed a stand of hair irritably out of her face. The wind had been bothering her all night. She hoped a storm wasn't blowing in, there wasn't much to speak of in her apartment food-wise.

Climbing the stairs to her room, Annabeth wiped her shoes on the worn mat in the hall. She didn't care how stressed out she was, she'd just cleaned the floor yesterday.

Shutting and bolting the door, Annabeth tossed her wrap carelessly on a chair. She promised herself that she'd taxi down to the Salvation Army in the morning and donate it. She wasn't going to wear it, not after the date she bought it for turned out to be a break-up.

A break-up.

Annabeth froze. She hadn't thought of it that way before. She'd been mad at Percy, yelled at him a lot. What had she said? Something about him being a jerk....

Annabeth crumpled onto her couch, tears leaking from her eyes. She'd broken-up with him alright.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, curled up in a tight ball on her couch. When she did finally manage to drag her trembling form off the bed of scratchy material, she felt awful. Her hair was limp and frizzy from where she'd straitened it, her face was a blotchy red, and her make-up was streaked over both her face and her hands.

Trudging to her small bathroom, Annabeth made a face at the cheery peach paint before starting the water. She waited until it was steaming hot to get in. She wouldn't mind burning herself, maybe then she could deny crying to whatever idiot randomly walked into her apartment in the middle of the night.

* * *

He hovered at her bedroom window, watched her walk in, drop the towel she covered herself in and tug on flannel pants and a sweatshirt that be decided must have once been Percy's.

In the dim light her two bulb ceiling fan gave off, he could barely see her. From what he could see though, it was clear she had been crying. That was to be expected, she would be heartbroken over the son of Poseidon and stressed.

This he knew, would be the perfect time to see her, face to face. She would be at her weakest, and that would be a good thing.

He didn't like taking advantage of girls, and hadn't since the ancient days. He did however, know that Annabeth had been trained first by the son of Hermes and daughter of Zeus, and then by Chiron, trainer of heros. And given he didn't want to arrive back at Olympus dripping Ichor, he decided to wait until she was almost asleep to slip into her room.

He didn't have to wait long, with in a half-hour, Annabeth's breathing had slowed a little and she was no loner gulping for air. Her eyes were still open, but glazed. Perfect.

Annabeth stirred, and sat up, rubbing her eyes when he opened her door. He'd unlocked it first, using a quiet but forceful tendril of wind. Now, he pulled the doors of her small balcony open and stepped into her room.

He'd chosen to appear as slightly younger version of the businessman he'd used earlier. She would be twenty in only a matter of months, and he was twenty-five, maybe a few years older.

Annabeth sat there, half covered by blankets, startled. She dipped her head, showing that she realized he was an immortal, but she obesely didn't recognize him.

He laughed softly at the blank look on her face, knowing it was rare for a child of Athena to look so clueless. "I am Zephyrs, child. I brought you down from Olympus and to your father all those years ago."

A look of recognition spread across her face and once again, Annabeth tipped her head. "Is there something I can do for you? Did my mother send you?"

A confused look once again spread over her face when he shook his head 'no'. The grogginess was starting to fade from her pale face, and the god wondered how long he had before she wondered what his motives were.

"A shame you had to break up with your boyfriend," He said simply, choosing to leave her question as to why he'd come unanswered. "And the day before Valentines no less. I'm quite sorry, you made a nice couple."

"Aphrodite sent you," Annabeth guessed, heaving a sigh and blowing a couple of short bang-like hairs out of her face. "She wants you to get us back together again."

"No," Zephyrs chuckled softly, "quite the opposite actually......"

* * *

The sun on February the fourteenth was very bright. So bright in fact, that it woke Percy Jackson up at six in the morning, shining right through his thin blinds.

Percy 'bluh'ed into his pillow before rolling over and heading into his bathroom. He was a wreck. Black hair fell over his eyes, and he still smelt like Sprite and tomato sauce. How pleasant.

Turning the tap on his shower, Percy flopped down on his closed toilet set and wondered what to do.

After he'd finally convinced the waitress that his girlfriend wasn't abusive--apparently, throwing drinks at people counted as some kind of abuse of some sort; or maybe that was just in Italian restaurants--he had rushed back to his apartment, hoping to IM Rachel or Thalia and ask them how to calm Annabeth down.

But then he remembered that Annabeth said he talked to them to much and not enough to her. So instead, he'd gone to bed wondering how many chocolates and stuffed owls he would have to buy before Annabeth forgave him for....... well, whatever it was he did.

"Percy!"

Percy jumped, and looked up. A rainbow flickered in front of him, Annabeth's pale face reflected in the water, her gray eyes wider and more worried then usual.

"What?" Percy asked, reached back inside his shower and turning off the water. Maybe he wouldn't have to buy her anything, maybe she was going to forgive him without costly gifts.

"Percy, is there a....... a cabin for the children of Zephyrs?"

"Um.....," Percy scratched his head. "I dunno. Maybe? Why, do we know one?"

Annabeth paled. "Percy, I'm so sorry."


End file.
